


stand in the heart of a star (carry its name)

by toomoon (jjjat3am)



Series: heart of a star [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Attempt at Humor, Found Family, M/M, Pre-Slash, hints of Lucas/Xiaojun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:00:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28922499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjjat3am/pseuds/toomoon
Summary: “Why are you on my ship?”“I needed a ride.”“To?”“Neo-City.”or, Ten is a stowaway on captain Kun's spaceship. It's going well until he goes plummeting through an air vent.
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Qian Kun
Series: heart of a star [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2121336
Comments: 31
Kudos: 98
Collections: Challenge #4 — Awaken The World





	stand in the heart of a star (carry its name)

**Author's Note:**

> Going back to my roots with this one. I hope you all like it as much as I loved writing it.

The ship is a relic from half a century ago, patchworked with someone’s careful repairs. It flies well enough despite that. Even squeezed into a dusty alcove in its ventilation system like Ten is, there’s no turbulence. It’s cold though, and the jacket he’d hastily snatched off a downed guard isn’t doing much to stave off the chill.

Ten unrolls from his crouch, stretching out his aching joints as he starts to crawl in a random direction. He ignores the scrapes and the bruises on his body with the ease of long practice. He’s careful to keep his movements soundless even if some clunking from an air vent shouldn’t attract suspicion with the bustle of an active ship. The ship doesn’t seem to have an active security system, which he supposes is lucky.

Ten doesn’t know much about the spaceship he’s on. It could be called a merchant ship much like a busted tin can could, if you were generous, be called a teapot. Actual merchant ships zoomed through the universe with the latest security systems, all gleaming metal and shiny tech that was never as effective as advertised. Ten should know - he’d stolen from more than a few of them.

He’s probably on a space delivery vehicle, the kind that ferries inexpensive packages to various reputable or disreputable ports across the universe. Nothing onboard is expensive enough to catch Ten’s attention. All he’s interested in is the destination - Neo-City.

There are some bridges that Ten hasn’t burned completely left in Neo-City. Enough to get him a change of clothes and some food, and maybe a bed for a few nights as he plans out his next move. 

Moving around helps warm him up but it also brings him closer to the ship’s hub, which he only realizes once he starts hearing voices. He stops at an air vent, looking through the slits at the room below.

Ten recognizes the captain from when he’d heard him loudly announcing the ship’s destination to some port guards. He’s sitting in an easy sprawl on the captain’s chair, no traces of the stiffness he’d had when communicating with the authorities at the planet they’d just left. He’s reading something on his datapad, looking up every so often to squint at the stars blurring outside the ship’s windshield.

“Winwin,” he says in a smooth baritone that sends a shiver down Ten’s spine that has nothing to do with the cold, “are the coordinates all set?”

“Yeah,” Winwin says, spinning around in his navigator chair, “estimated time of arrival is ten days and 21 hours.”

Ten frowns. It seems like a long time to him, but what does he know? Maybe the ship is just that slow. He’s never had to do more than rudimentary navigating on his own. All those numbers and calculations make his head spin.

“Hendery,” the captain prompts, “how’s the ship looking?”

Hendery, contorted in a weird position on the pilot’s chair, hums under his breath. “It’s fine, Kun,” he says, “the third left turbine is still slow, so we’re listing a little bit to the right, but I’m compensating with manual controls.”

Captain Kun frowns. It looks like a well-practiced expression. “We can’t do anything about that until Yangyang gets the necessary parts to fix it,” he says. “Make sure you’re alternating between me and Xiaojun so you can get some rest.”

Hendery snorts, swinging around in his chair. “As if I’d let Xiaojun anywhere near my baby’s controls,” he says, patting the navigational console reverently, “who knows what he’d do to it. Drive us into an asteroid shower or something.”

“Excuse me,” another man, presumably Xiaojun, pipes up, “who says I want to sit in your sticky chair for hours at a time. It’s boring! Meanwhile, I’m a security officer! My job is so much more exciting than yours.”

The ship’s hub is connected to a common area that sports some couches, an outdated holo unit, and a full kitchen next to a food replicator. Xiaojun and another man are sitting there, close even though the couch is big enough for a crew twice as big. It looks cozy, and Ten shivers, drawing his jacket tighter around himself.

“More exciting?” Hendery scoffs, “I’ll remember that for next time when we’re trying to fly through the debris of a newly exploded supernova and you’re screaming your ass off while I cooly and competently guide us to safety.”

“You? _‘Cool and competent’_? Lucas had to inject you with a sedative twice!” Xiaojun turns to the man sitting next to him. “Isn’t that right, Lucas?”

Lucas smiles and soft blue lights up a pathway under the skin of his cheek in a distinct pattern. Ten almost recoils in shock. It’s been a long time since he’s seen an autonomous android on a ship like this. 

“Xiaojun,” Lucas says, voice booming and yet gentle, “please breathe deeply. Your blood pressure is rising, it’s bad for you.”

Xiaojun flushes, obediently taking a deep breath. “Right,” he says, in a slightly strangled voice, “sorry to worry you, Xuxi.”

Lucas frowns. “Xiaojun, you’re experiencing increased capillary blood flow in your cheeks,” he says, then puts his big hand on Xiaojun’s forehead. The tips of his fingers glow a soft blue and Xiaojun blushes harder. “Are you feeling okay? Any other symptoms?”

“Fine,” Xiaojun squeaks out, “I’m fine.”

Hendery rolls his eyes, while Winwin muffles his giggles into his hand. It seems like the scene is a fairly common occurrence. Kun clears his throat.

“Don’t fight,” he says firmly, “Xiaojun, you’ll take over the piloting if Hendery and I are resting. And Hendery, you know Xiaojun is a capable driver, stop antagonizing him.”

“Yes, boss,” Xiaojun and Hendery chorus, exchanging a conspiratorial look, argument forgotten as Kun rolls his eyes.

“Don’t call me that,” Kun says, then settles more comfortably in his chair. “Right, if we’re done with-”

He gets cut off as three things happen in very short succession: 

  * a person bursts through the door, yells, “I finally got the security system running!”



  * the security system springs to life with a loud burst of static 



  * the rusty hinges of the air vent below Ten’s body give way



“Intruder! Intruder on board!” the security system announces, redundantly, since Ten lands literally smack dab in the middle of the ship’s hub. He lands on his feet but his knees hurt from the impact. He’s careful not to show it.

Kun is halfway out of his seat, and his face is calm even if the hub is suddenly pure chaos. Xiaojun is on his feet, all traces of a blush erased from his face along with all other emotion. He’s got a blaster trained on Ten, flipped onto stun. Something about the way he stands tells Ten that he’ll have no issue changing the settings to something more permanent if Ten makes the wrong move.

“Yangyang, turn off the security system,” Kun says, yelling to be heard over the increasingly shrill intruder alert.

“Button’s on your console, boss,” Yangyang says. Kun curses under his breath and squints at the panel on the side of his seat. 

“Ah-hah,” he says, and presses a button. The captain’s seat rises by two inches. “Not this one,” Kun mutters, presses another button. Jets descend from the ceiling and spray something faintly alcoholic on the inner windshield, wipers appearing out of nowhere to wipe it away, making Hendery splutter. “Sorry, Hendery,” Kun says, presses another button. An army of nineteen robot vacuum cleaners descends from under the consoles and begins to furiously vacuum the carpeted floors. Lucas waves at them excitedly. 

“It’s the pink one, boss,” Yangyang supplies helpfully. Kun presses a button. Inexplicably, a disco ball descends from the ceiling and begins to spin, casting mesmerizing light across the ship’s interior. Yangyang whoops excitedly.

“Who even put all of these here?” Kun hisses.

“I was bored,” Yangyang chirps. “Also, it’s the lighter pink.”

Kun presses a button and the alarm system cuts off abruptly. The silence that follows is tense. Xiaojun’s grip on his blaster hasn’t eased. Kun’s expression turns stormy and he opens his mouth to -

“Actually, it’s great that you dropped in, pun intended,” Yangyang cuts in, almost making Ten jump. He’s walked closer without Ten realizing it, regarding the hole in the ceiling with something like excitement. There are three dark tentacles waving in the air behind him, moving too fluidly to be a body modification. One of them pickles up the fallen vent, waving it in the air as if showing it off.

“Don’t get so close, Yangyang,” Kun says, voice low. Worried. 

“You don’t look that heavy, so if the vent just gave out like that, it means the hinges are rusted,” Yangyang continues, oblivious. “I’ll have to replace them all. The vents too - I can even make some cool designs for them!”

He’s close enough that Ten could reach out and grab him. There’s a stolen switchblade in his pocket, dull ceramic edge just enough to do some damage. He could take a hostage, try to barter his way out of this situation.

“I could etch some cats into them since you crept on us like a cat! What do you think?” Yangyang is looking at him expectantly, eyes huge and bright, his tentacles pulling tools out of thin air, crudely sketching the shapes of cat ears onto the displaced vent. 

“That would be pretty cool,” Ten says. Yangyang beams at him. 

“Xiaojun, put that away,” Kun says, softly. Ten whips around to look at him. Most of the tension has bled out of his frame. Xiaojun clicks on the safety on the blaster and lowers it, visibly unhappy. “Who are you?”

It takes Ten a second to register the question. He hasn’t introduced himself to anyone in a long time. “I’m Ten,” he says.

“Ten,” Kun repeats. No one has said Ten’s name out loud in a while too. “Why are you on my ship?”

“I needed a ride.”

“To?”

“Neo-City.”

The words cause a visible ripple in the crew. Winwin and Hendery exchange glances and turn back to their consoles. Kun’s face smooths out, indecipherable. Yangyang hums under his breath.

“I heard you speaking to the port guards,” Ten says, feeling mounting desperation. “I know that’s where you’re headed. I can pay you when we get there.” Probably. “You won’t even know I’m here.”

There’s a brief silence. Ten meets Kun’s eyes, refusing to look away first. Ten’s been fueled by adrenaline and fear for what feels like hours now, and it’s catching up to him, making him feel dizzy. He locks his knees stubbornly. He’s not out in the clear yet, despite the way Kun’s face seems to soften, despite Yangyang banging and clanging somewhere in his blind spot.

“We’re not going to Neo-City,” Kun says softly. It hits Ten like a gut punch, leaving him winded. “I lied to the guards.”

“You…” Ten starts, trailing off. “Where are you going?”

“Earth,” Kun says and Ten can’t contain his snort.

“Why?” he asks, disbelieving. “Earth is a cesspit. What could you possibly want there?”

“We have something to sell,” Kun says, but he seems a little annoyed at Ten’s disbelief. Ten doesn’t have it in himself to care.

“What could you have that’s got any worth to anyone on Earth?” Ten asks, shaking his head. “You don’t look like a drug dealer.”

Kun recoils. “I’m not!” he hisses, and the anger on his face is almost enough to make Ten apologize. But only almost. He’s too furious to care. The fury keeps away the despair that’s already tugging on the edges of his awareness.

“Then, why?”

“Coffee,” Yangyang cuts in brightly. Ten hadn’t even realized he’d been listening.

“Coffee?” Ten repeats, disbelieving. “You do not have coffee.”

Kun’s calm composure has well and truly eroded at this point. He’s standing in the middle of the hub, fists clenched and pink-cheeked. Ten would worry that he’d order Xiaojun to pull out his blaster again but Xiaojun is back to sitting half in Lucas’ lap on the couch, seemingly unconcerned by the proceedings.

“Yes, I do!” Kun hisses. “Genuine Cherry Bomb coffee.”

“Cherry Bomb coffee,” Ten echoes. “No way you have Cherry Bomb coffee. It’s almost a myth.”

But only almost, Ten knows. 

Kun lets out an inarticulate noise of rage, pulls out a small pouch from one of his pockets, and opens it. The little seeds inside are a bright pink that reflects the light, casting soft highlights on Kun’s face. Ten wonders if that’s what he looks like when he’s blushing. 

Even regular coffee is worth a pretty penny in any port in the known universe but Cherry Bomb coffee - one seed is worth thousands. If it’s genuine. Ten takes a deep breath, the scent of something faintly floral entering his nose. He can’t help his sympathetic smile.

“Ah,” Ten says. “Uh. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news but that’s not Cherry Bomb coffee.”

Kun frowns. “What do you mean? Of course, it’s Cherry Bomb coffee. The dealer was very reputable.”

“Yeah, Chenle certainly has a reputation,” Yangyang says under his breath. Kun ignores him.

“We saved him from a sticky situation and he gave them to us as a thank you,” Kun continues, looking earnest.

“He needed a ride to his boyfriend’s house because his parents locked up his yacht,” Winwin mutters. Kun glares at him.

“Well, you got conned,” Ten shrugs. “It’s still probably decent coffee under all that paint but it smells too nice. Cherry Bomb coffee is supposed to smell like gasoline. Something about the mineral deposits on the planet.” It tastes like gasoline too and burns worse on the way down. You don’t drink Cherry Bomb coffee for the taste.

“How do you know all of this?” Kun asks tone a little despairing. The little pouch is tucked away in his pocket. He sits down on his chair, but it’s still set a couple of inches higher, leaving his feet dangling in the air. It’s cute.

“Oh, my ex was a coffee trader,” Ten says, unable to stop his fond smile at the memory, “I learned from him.”

Hendery whistles through his teeth. “A coffee trader, huh?” he says, grinning as he turns to Kun. “That’s pretty harsh competition, Kun, you’re gonna have to step it up.”

Kun hisses a curse as Hendery and Winwin descend into giggles. His cheeks look a little pink and this time it isn’t a trick of reflective paint. It’s cute. Ten smirks slightly, then shivers, drawing his jacket closer to himself. He’s not wearing anything underneath it and the touch of cool leather against his scrapes reminds him uncomfortably of the situation he’s in. Winwin and Hendery’s gossiping, the clanging of Yangyang’s gadgets, and Lucas’s concerned gaze that he has to keep dodging, is lulling him into a false sense of security. 

He’s still an intruder here.

Kun lets out a sigh. “Alright then,” he says. “Winwin, recalibrate. We’re setting course for Neo-City. We can unload our shipment on Asteroid 0117 on the way.”

What.

“What?” Ten asks weakly.

Winwin’s fingers fly across the keys. “Estimated arrival time on Asteroid 0117 is three days and 13 hours,” he says.

“That was fast,” Kun remarks but he’s still watching Ten, something indecipherable in his gaze.

“We all know you’re a softie, captain,” Winwin says, hiding his smile behind his datapad as Hendery laughs under his breath. Ten looks between them with increasing befuddlement. There’s cautious relief bleeding through his senses, making his knees weak, and he fights to suppress it. No way it’s going to be this easy.

“I can’t pay you,” Ten tells Kun, even though there’s a voice in his head screaming at him not to ruin a good thing. “I lied earlier. You can leave me on that asteroid, or you can-”

“We’ll take you to Neo-City,” Kun says, a note of finality in his voice that has Ten’s mouth falling open. “It’s on our way, anyway. Not a big deal.”

“It’s the direct opposite of your course!” Ten almost yells, a little hysterical, monumentally confused. He looks around the ship, but Yangyang is lost in his own little world, attacking a sheet of metal with a small blowtorch. Xiaojun’s expression is unreadable and his blaster is just a shape underneath his jacket. And Lucas -

“Ten, may I take a look at your injuries?” Lucas says, walking closer, spiderweb patterns of light racing just underneath his skin. Xiaojun tenses behind him but his hands remain loose at his sides. “You’re bleeding and your body is going into shock.”

“Shit, you’re injured? And you must be exhausted too,” Kun says, an expression of concern on his face, like it matters, like he cares-

“I literally dropped through your ceiling!” Ten yells, as Lucas gently pokes his cheek with a glowing finger. “I could be a murderer for all you know! You can’t just trust me like this!”

“I keep telling him that but he never listens,” Xiaojun mutters as he comes closer. Ten is swaying on his feet and he realizes, mortified, that Xiaojun intends to catch him when he falls.

“At least lock me in a prison cell!” Ten says, as Lucas carefully puts his arm around him in support. His whole body is shaking as the full force of the past couple of hours hits him all at once.

“Oh, right,” Kun says, soft and concerned, “Xiaojun, can you prepare one of the spare cabins, so Ten has somewhere to rest after Lucas is done with him? He could do with a change of clothes too, just take some of mine.”

Unable to stay on his feet anymore, Ten makes an inarticulate noise full of fury and confusion, and finally succumbs to unconsciousness. 

  
  



End file.
